


Call For Me

by softSnowdrop



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Complete, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softSnowdrop/pseuds/softSnowdrop
Summary: The first time he called out to her, he didn't expect silence. He didn't expect a lot of things--all he expected was just another job conning some poor girl who also lived on the street, really, but he received the unexpected.





	Call For Me

                The first time he called for her, his voice came out quiet, friendly; “What’s your name?” he had asked as he tossed his worn and battered scarf around her neck.

                She said nothing in response, but instead signed: “Neopolitan.” She had moved her mouth along with the words—a habit she had formed long ago, but of course, no sound came out.

                He blinked in response, as if it took him a minute to process what she had just done; her heart sank, and she looked around, attempting to find a notebook she usually kept at her side. Before she managed to find it, much to her delight, he spoke again. “Neopolitan, huh? Well, Neo, I think we both deserve a hot meal, so why don’t we go hit up a joint I know down the street?”

                Before she knew it, he had extended a hand to her, and she had picked her umbrella up, taken his hand and stood in front of him; she wasn’t a bit surprised by his height, everyone was massive compared to her.

                “I’m Roman, by the way.” He had stated as they started to walk alongside each other; snow had just started to fall. Though he wasn’t looking in her direction, she signed his name—she did it more for herself, than anything. She wanted to repeat the name of the stranger who was showing her kindness—at least just this once.

                “Most people don’t just sit around on the streets, even if they don’t have a place, y’know. Do you think you’re not going to freeze to death or something?” He turned his head towards her, expecting a response.

                “I’ve been living like this since I was fifteen.”

                “How old are you now?”

                “Seventeen.”

                She noted that he looked around the same age as her, give or take a year.

                “Damn, Neo. You’re tougher than you look, then, aren’t you?”

                She gave a little nod and as she blinked, switched her eye colors. From pink and brown to brown and pink, and then back again.

                “Cute little trick you’ve got there.”

                “It’s my semblance.”

                “Oh-ho, your semblance? Is that all you can do?”

                She shook her head and offered a sly grin.

                “You won’t tell me all your secrets yet, huh?” Roman chuckled again, this time producing a cigar from his coat pocket. “I can respect that. Y’know, I think we might get along pretty well.”

                She didn’t want to say yes—not so soon. She had met kind people before, and she had only used them and ran; utilizing her semblance meant that she could have a different face any time that she wanted, and those around her would be none the wiser.

                Though, there was something she liked in Roman; maybe it was the fact he was wearing tattered and clearly old clothes, maybe it was the way he spoke to her—or maybe she was just getting soft. 

                “Oh, yeah—if the guy in here gives us any trouble, let me take care of it?” Roman let ashes from the tip of his cigar fall to the ground as he drew in another breath. “Let’s call him an _old friend_ , let’s say that he _owes_ me a few favors, got it?”

 _Sneaky bastard, you’re blackmailing him, aren’t you? Or you’ve threatened to vandalize the place._ Neopolitan thought to herself; she hid the devious smile that curled onto her lips by coughing into her hand. It was faked, of course, though she knew that she would be coughing by the end of the winter season.

 

                She always thought of that meeting in her darkest moments; the second she took his hand, her life changed for the better. She no longer wandered the streets, alone, looking for the next kindhearted person she could swindle, but instead, she had found a partner.

                A partner in crime, someone that would walk with her. Someone that she found a mutual sense of caring and respect for. Someone that she didn’t particularly want to lose, since they had built a bond so strong over the years.

 

                The first time he had called out to her, he had seen her sitting next to a closed shop on a corner. He had just finished looking over the map on his scroll, and he couldn’t help but notice that the only person on the street was a young girl—someone around his age.

                “Well, what else can I do?” He had sighed to himself before approaching her, even going as far as to take the scarf off of his own neck.

                “What’s your name?” He has asked; he kept his voice low as he slowly tossed the scarf around her neck. He knew it was kind of a crude gesture, given how low-quality and old the scarf was, but he still figured it was a gesture to try and earn trust, nonetheless.

                Though her lips moved, she remained silent—much to Roman’s shock, she had signed with her hands. _Neopolitan, is it? Interesting name. I wonder if you chose it, or if you based your look around it. Look at you, pink, brown, white—that can’t be a coincidence._

                It was only when she began to look around, twisting and turning, trying to look behind her, that he snapped out of his thoughts, and spoke again. “Neopolitan, huh? Well, Neo, I think we both deserve a hot meal, so why don’t we go hit up a joint I know down the street?”

_Hope you don’t mind me calling you ‘Neo’. I think it suits ya._

                When he spoke again, her face lit up; a part of Roman didn’t know what to feel when she smiled at him, as she took his hand.

                Camaraderie, partnership, friendship? No, no, he had been alone all of these years, he had interacted with people like this plenty of times—he would never feel anything akin to that for someone he had just met, even if they were a street rat just like him.

                But why did it feel so _different_ this time? A part of him wanted to keep her by his side, if he could. If she would have him.

 

                They didn’t talk through most of their meal together—Neopolitan had her hands full, after all. She kept her gaze locked on the man behind the counter, though; he didn’t seem to happy, especially after Roman had what she was sure to be a _fun_ little chat with him in the backroom, and she half-expected him to try and slip poison or something else into either Roman’s food or her own.

                “So, Neo.” Roman sighed, seeing as she had finished her food. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but listen. I think we might be able to make a great team together, don’t you?”

                “I’ve never seen you fight, I’ve only seen you swindle restaurant owners and smoke.” Neopolitan hesitated, but continued. “But, I do think you bring some interesting skills to the table.”

                “Oh, do you now? And just what can you do, aside from that little eye trick you showed me earlier.”

                “I’ll show you outside.” She signed again, ending it by winking at him. “I’d rather not do it in here. You can go on out, and I’ll meet you?”

                Roman frowned at the suggestion, but he reached for the cane under the counter and stood up, despite his protesting groan. “Really, gonna make me wait to find out? Fine, fine, just don’t bail on me, alright?”

                “Wouldn’t dream of it, Roman.” She reached for her umbrella, and waited until she saw the door close behind him.

 

                The second time he actually called out for her, it was mostly out of shock, out of anxiety—something he initially didn’t believe he possessed for another living creature, especially not a person he had just met.

                It was when the restaurant owner stepped out of the shop, instead of Neopolitan. He was shorter than Roman remembered, but he didn’t have time to question it—the man in front of him was holding Neopolitan’s umbrella, and she was nowhere to be seen—so, instead, he readied his own weapon, and shot daggers at the shop owner.

                “What the hell did you do to Neo?” He had hissed, much to the silent horror of the restaurant owner. “I swear to the gods, if you hurt her—"

                To his surprise, the shop owner quickly started signing and mouthing words; he almost looked amused. “What are you talking about? Do you really think he’s this small?”

                And with that, Neopolitan’s visage slowly came through. Roman faltered; he slowly lowered his cane, and while, at first, he looked confused, and even a little worried, in the end, a wide grin spread across his face. “Well played, Neo, well played.”

                “Were you actually worried about me?” After she finished signing, she reached into the folded fabric of her umbrella and pulled out the scarf he had handed her earlier; she held it out to him, sporting a cheeky grin.

                He could see the smile in her eyes and written all over her face, and he couldn’t help but laugh himself. “No, we just met. But you know, I think we’ll get along just fine, Neo.” He took the scarf, tossed it over the bend of his elbow, and extended his hand to her once again, offering it to shake. “Partners.”

                She took his hand, only to sign in response after the brief shake. “Partners.”

 

                Everything was great over the next six years; the two had their rough patches, but nothing would hold them down for long. If their schemes went wrong in one town, they would hop on to the next, adopt new names, Neo would adopt a new face during their social interactions—nothing could stop them, and despite not having an actual home together, they were happy.

                That is, until Cinder Fall came into their lives. Roman seemed willing to talk to her at first—he even greeted her warmly the first time they met. “Well, hello, gorgeous.”

                It was usually how he won the richer crowd over. He would woo them, and then he and Neopolitan would either blackmail them because of an affair, or they would rob them blind. It was easier for him, since not everyone would be patient enough with Neopolitan’s silence.

 

                The first time she actually called for him, though, was out of pure fear.

                She knew he couldn’t read her lips or her hands in the moment, but it still didn’t stop her from signing as rapidly as she could.

                It didn’t take long for Roman’s façade with Cinder to crumble; the minute that Roman said something that she didn’t like, she snapped. She lit the surrounding area on fire, causing Neopolitan to grab Roman by the hand—the both of them nearly missing being hit by _her_ —and fleeing the scene.

                She didn’t know what else to do. So, the two of them tucked into the nearest alleyway, panting, breathing heavily, smelling of burned wood, with their clothing and hair slightly singed.

                “What was her problem?” Neopolitan signed rapidly at him, after the two had caught their breath. “What _was_ she?”

                “God, I don’t know, I’ve got no damn clue, Neo.” Roman breathed heavily, looking away from her and slumping his head back against the cold, stone wall. “I think it’s time for us to jump town, though. Hell, the next few towns over.”

                He looked back at her, expecting her to reply, though she only nodded and moved her arms around his waist—hugging him from the side. She hid her face in his arm, and withheld every urge to cry.

                She was sure that she had almost lost him; she almost lost her only friend in this life.

                It didn’t take him long to return the hug, he held her tightly and close, clinging to her as if in the next moment, someone would try to pry them apart. “We’re fine, we’re always fine,” He had muttered; partially to reassure himself, and partially to reassure

                Neopolitan was almost sure that it was him trying to reassure himself. _He’s fine, we’re both fine._ Neopolitan silently reassured herself. She didn’t know what else to do.

                “After that, I kind of just want to sleep.” Roman sighed—he forced out a chuckle as he did so, but Neopolitan could just hear the energy slowly being sapped from him with every word, every chuckle, every breath, even.

                She pulled away, signing in response. “We shouldn’t stay around here for long. People are going to be looking for her—and she’s going to be looking for us.”

                “Yeah, I know, Neo. Come on—let’s get our shit from our hotel, and let’s go?”

                They both felt a twinge of confidence sparking back up inside of them—though their hearts heavy from what was practically a near-death experience, they were beginning to feel half-decent again. Neopolitan raised her hands to sign again, but was cut off by a voice coming from behind Roman.

                “And just where do you think you two will run?”

                Of course, Cinder had found them.

                In that moment, their hearts sank once again, and they knew they couldn’t get away. That they would just have to comply with her demands.

                They couldn’t afford henchmen to rob a dust shop, but I guess now they had to get them _somehow_.

 

                The last time he called for her, a stupid child had launched her off into a grimm-covered night sky. He screamed her name, but of course, got no audible response.

                He immediately knew that he wasn’t going to let this brat get away from him—he was going to make her suffer for taking everything from him; the one person who had been by his side for all of these years, the one person in this life that he loved more than chaos and money itself—it took less than a few minutes for her to take that away from him.

 

                The last time she called for him, she had been swept off of the airship by her goddamn umbrella—one her only sources of comfort and consistency through life had just betrayed her, had just taken her away from the one person in this world that she genuinely cared about.

                She had clung to her umbrella and silently screamed for him, over and over. Especially after she saw the explosion in the distance. At that point, she couldn’t fight back her tears; she still clung to her umbrella, her only lifeline, in the hopes that maybe, somehow, he had made it off of that ship—but she was never really that hopeful, not alone, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmm. Angst for the villains. I might write something happier for them. One day. Just not tonight.
> 
> I wanna add, Neopolitan absolutely did beat up the restaurant owner and steal his clothes; that was definitely implied, but looking back I really should have outright said it.


End file.
